Reunions
by Mariel Sparrow
Summary: A short sequel to the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, taking place approximately 20 years after At World's End. Has Jack really found a way to bring William Turner back to his wife and son?
1. Tortuga

That chilly summer's eve, the thoroughfares of Tortuga were gloomy and bathed in eerie gray light and brume. Evianne walked briskly along a byway, humming a tune to herself. The streets were, apart from her, deserted—there had been a large exodus from the infamous port after hearing that the East India Trading Company was sending ships to take over once and for all. But Evianne hadn't. She'd had some business to attend to before leaving.

Suddenly, as she rounded a corner, Evianne found her way barricaded by a group of soldiers. She turned back. Another group had come up behind her. She stood, frightened, looking up and around the surrounding houses for an exit.

Suddenly an old man pushed aside the soldiers in front of her.

Without prelude, the man spoke. "My name is Henry Beckett. May I inquire as to your name, and purpose here? Everyone else has…" He motioned at the empty town around them. "…left, it seems."

"No, you may not," said Evianne sharply, looking at Henry Beckett straight in the eye. "Why have you detained me? I am doing nothing wrong here, simply walking through the city streets. Is that a crime, Mr. Beckett?"

"Not usually. However, the exception is if the 'citizen' in question is in league with pirates. More specifically…." He grabbed her wrist before she could react and pushed up her sleeve so her forearm showed. There, quite plain in the soft gray light, was a tattoo of a sunset. And flying in front of the sunset was a sparrow. "Jack Sparrow."

Evianne tried to free herself, but Beckett's grip was surprisingly strong.

"Greetings, Ms. Evianne Sparrow. I have heard much of you." Beckett let go of her arm and scrutinized her. "According to my informers, you look much like your father. I'm sorry to say that I have never had the pleasure of meeting the man. But that will change quite soon, I am sure. I received a tip from one of my spies stationed here in Tortuga. He told me that the _Black Pearl_ had made berth here, that he had seen some of its crew members lumbering about the city. But, apparently, you have your own spies as well."

Evianne managed to wrench her hand free from his grip. "You will never trap us. And if you ever _do_ meet Jack Sparrow, he will probably be the last person you see before your life wisps away."

"That indeed remains to be seen. Ms. Sparrow, let's end this quickly. Show me where the _Pearl_ is docked, and there shall be no trouble. I have many, _many_ troops in Tortuga tonight, Evianne. I would hate to see you suffer, for you to have to see your friends die tonight…."

Evianne laughed. "I have heard much of you too, Mr. Beckett. Leader of the East India Trading Company, father of the late Cutler Beckett. And I've also heard that you don't ever give a damn about anyone but yourself. You can stop your little 'hate to see you suffer' act. In other words, thanks for the offer, but… no thanks." Evianne smiled and then like lightning she jumped up onto a stack of barrels in front of a nearby shop. She then sped off quickly on the rooftops of Tortuga, leaving stunned and confused soldiers behind. She got off the roofs a few streets down and sprinted to the 'Endroit Secret', the special hidden dock of Tortuga which the soldiers had thankfully not yet discovered.

"Ah, there she comes," said Jack Sparrow from the _Black Pearl_, seeing Evianne running up the dock. "We finally have the maps. Now all we have to do is wait for Hector and his ship. There's no one left to raid here in Tortuga, he said he'd send us a rum shipment in exchange for some cargo of ours." Jack grinned at the thought.

"Cap'n, we really _are_ behind schedule. I think we should make do with—," started Gibbs.

"No, Mr. Gibbs. We _need_ that rum! We would be simply _miserable_ without it. Rum— it is the essence of contentment! Am I not correct, Hubert?" he said to Cotton's parrot, which was perched nearby.

"Wind in the sails!"

"That's the spirit, mate!" Jack grinned at Hubert.

"Well, rum or no rum, we have to leave _now_, Jack," said Evianne, running onto the deck, dislodging the gangplank behind her, and shoving two maps into Jack's arms "Beckett found out about our presence here. He and some men cornered me in the streets, I barely escaped. It won't be long before they find the Endroit Secret."

"Baaad, bad Beckett! Very bad Beckett," rebuked Hubert.

"All right then…," said Jack, checking the maps over and pondering their next move. Then, putting the charts away, he turned and called at the crew, "Gentlemen… and lady," he nodded to Evianne. "Set a course to Isla Cosette! It _has_, after all, been nearly twenty years. I personally think we owe Elizabeth Turner a little visit."

Anything not © Disney is © Mariel Sparrow


	2. Isla Cosette

As Will Turner the third walked up the dirt path leading out of the port town, towards his home, he felt the salty breeze on his face and the sun shining warmly upon the tiny land mass that was Isla Cosette. However he did have some more interesting things on his mind than the beautiful day. A large ship had docked at the port. It was larger than any ship Cosette had seen in years, since wealthy traders that could afford large vessels usually had no business here on the little-known island. This one looked to be an East-Indiamen, or maybe a schooner. He couldn't wait to tell his mother Elizabeth about it, she loved the sea as much as he did, although she didn't sail often. In her mind, the sea was a beautiful thing to be respected and admired from the shore, but not to be traveled on in a ship.

With these thoughts on his mind, Will hiked along the path until the small town at the seashore was out of sight. He caught a glimpse of the other shore of the tiny island, where he and his mother lived. The house itself, small but good enough for them, was situated at the end of the road. Behind the home were some gently sloping, golden meadows which reached a cliff, overlooking the sea. It was there that Will had last seen his father, the reason he and his mother had never moved away. When the trail finally ended Will entered the small house.

"Oh, Will. You're back," observed his mother from the kitchen, smiling at him.

"Run for cover!" he exclaimed in a mock-ominous voice, grinning. "I've got some news that might interest you, by the way," he added, going into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the small counter, and sitting across the table from his mother.

"Oh?"

"A large ship made berth down at the port today, me and Malcolm saw it when we were leaving Eurig's shop. You simply _must_ go see her, mother! You would love her; she's really a beauty! About thirty years old, but I'm sure that she was one of the fastest ships around in her time! The wood is carved into the most intricate figures on the bow, and the pure black sails—."

"Black sails?" interrupted Elizabeth, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Yes, why?"

"My God…. Will, did you ask about the name of the ship? Did you meet her captain?" asked his mother hurriedly, rising to her feet and staring at her son as though she couldn't believe his words.

"Ah… yes, I did see her captain from afar, but I didn't meet him or ask for the vessel's name!" said Will, alarmed.

"Could it be possibly be him…?" Elizabeth muttered to herself, looking hopeful yet hesitative as she walked over to the window and looked out onto the road.

"_Who_?"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Elizabeth went still and pale.

"William… go get it, will you?" his mother said weakly, not taking her eyes off the window.

"Of course, but… mother, are you all right?" She didn't often look so stunned.

"Yes, yes… just go open it, quickly!" responded Elizabeth, coming out of her shocked state somewhat when the visitor knocked once again on the front door. Will left the table and hurried to the entrance.

When he opened the door, he saw two people. One was a strange man, seemingly in his mid-sixties. His dark brown hair, which was accented by many ornaments, was in dreadlocks around his face and brown eyes. He wore a faded red bandana on his head and his fingers were bedecked with many rings.

Behind the man, leaning against a barrel placed outside the house for no reason, was a girl that appeared to be about Will's age; maybe seventeen or eighteen. He assumed she was the man's daughter—her face resembled his, as well as her dark brown hair, but her eyes were an incisive gray color. She had a blue and gold macaw perched on her shoulder. William turned back to the man and opened his mouth to speak when his mother's voice came from behind him.

"Jack? Jack is that really you?" Elizabeth said incredulously as she stood next to her son in the door's threshold.

"Well I don't think it's a dream… 'If it was there'd be rum', as I told your father-in-law once," Jack grinned and hugged her as William looked on, confused. Wasn't this man the captain of the new ship? He knew William's grandfather? Could he have also known his father, whom Will himself had met only once in his life?

"Jack you really do not know how glad I am to see you!" said Elizabeth when they finally parted. "Come inside, come inside!"

"Come, Evianne," Jack motioned the girl inside.

"That's all right Jack… I can stay out here with Hubert. He can get claustrophobic," said Evianne, stroking the bird's feathers gently.

"All right then…" said Elizabeth, looking back and forth between Evianne and Jack, probably noting their resemblance. She turned back to Jack. "Come on, we have so much to catch up on, Jack!" she said, glowing. Will had rarely seen his mother so happy.

They went into the kitchen and seated themselves at the table.

"So," started Elizabeth.

"So," answered Jack.

"Cotton's bird has a name now?"

"Yes. Hubert. Evianne's invention, but the feathery twit shall always mostly be 'Cotton's parrot' to the rest of us, I fear."

"Time has not changed you one bit, Jack Sparrow. You're still the same megalomaniac as always," laughed Elizabeth.

So this was Jack Sparrow._ That explains how he knew my grandfather, and my mother, _thought William. _And I am now sure he knew my father. _Will's mother had told him much about the captain, yet somehow Will had always imagined him differently. Without the bizarre hairstyle, for sure.

"Yet _you_, Elizabeth," said Jack. "Time seems to have changed your way of life a great deal. Somehow, before, I never could see you as the type to live this way." He glanced at Will. "He looks like his father…. I was scared out of my wits when I first saw you in the doorway, young man. For a moment I thought your father himself had come back from his duties on the _Dutchman_," continued Jack, addressing Will now.

"Really?"

"Quite," grinned Jack. "Turners, all looking alike…. And I guess it turns out William was _not_ a eunuch after all!"

"Your daughter looks like you too," said Elizabeth cautiously, as if not sure whether to pursue the subject.

"Does she?" Jack smiled, amused. "I bet she won't be too happy if you tell her that. Part of her detests me ever so deeply for being her father."

"So… she _is_ your daughter? You got married, Jack?" said Elizabeth, surprised. "I never saw you as the type to live that way," she added with a twinkle in her eye, nodding vaguely towards Jack's hand, on which a golden band could be seen.

Jack simply said shortly, "Yes, I did. Her name was Adena; she died when Evianne was born."

Elizabeth became silent. "I'm so sorry, Jack," she finally said softly. "So… Barbossa and Gibbs are still around? What about Cotton? Marty? Pintel and Ragetti?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, yes, the old crew's still more or less intact," said Jack, regaining his usual demeanor. "Cotton's getting off here at Cosette, he's had enough pirating. It's too bad he's leaving his parrot behind…. Marty's fine, Pintel and Ragetti are with Hector on his new ship, the _Striking Storm_. Gibbs is still his own self on the _Pearl_."

"I see…" said Elizabeth, nodding. "Jack… why are you _really_ here? I sense something in you that tells me you have something more exciting to tell me than the new designation of Cotton's parrot."

"Ah. Guilty as charged," said Jack, lifting his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Well… I _do _have something more to tell. A proposal, in fact. One for a new adventure! A grand endeavor that could—and this is _not_ guaranteed Elizabeth, but it definitely could work—give your own dear involuntary Captain William a way to come back to you."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide, and her breathing increased in speed. "Jack… you really think it's possible?"

"Perhaps. Shall I explain?"

"Please do," said Elizabeth, scrutinizing him in search of a lie. "Because I personally cannot think of a way for Will to come back alive. And not turn into some sort of cephalopod, that is."

"All right then. Nineteen years ago, we fought together for the last time, and William Turner was forced into being the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_."

"By you."

"By me," concurred Jack. "But it was that or certain death, Elizabeth, and not just for him! Nobody that was on the old _Pearl_ that day would have survived, because if it had not been for William and the _Dutchman_ under _his_ command we would have surely been defeated and sent to the depths by the armada and that calamari-bearded bit of pond scum, Davy Jones."

"I know, Jack, I wasn't accusing you. Keep talking."

"Ah, yes. Well that was the day you left the ship. Once you had gone, we set sail for Tortuga, where Barbossa stole—pardon me, _commandeered_—my ship yet again. But what he _hadn't _realized was that my utterly unique instinctual talents had forewarned me of this terrible deed and so I had taken the map to where he wanted to be off to. So, with the _Pearl_ gone, I set off in—and this will sound pathetic, but it really was a _grand_ vessel—a dinghy. But a _spectacular _dinghy, I tell you!"

"A _dinghy_. You set off pirating in a _dinghy_," stated Elizabeth, seeming amazed (though whether she admired Jack's feat or thought him completely mental, Will was not sure. Most likely the latter.)

"Yes, a hard task. Not for the faint of heart, my dear!"

"Of course... So you set sail in a dinghy…"

"Yes. However, Barbossa soon spotted me. I knew he could not obtain possession of the map or he would most likely maroon me on that bloody island for a _third_ time. And since all the rum is gone…" He shot her a resentful look. "I wouldn't even be able to get dr—I mean, make a signal. And hope to be hanged by the Trading Company before I died of thirst or starved. And I very much doubt Hector would have given me my gun," he added sourly.

"So, once I was aboard the ship, I hid the map and told Barbossa I had lost possession of it. Hector didn't buy it, of course. He unfortunately isn't _that_ intellectually incapacitated. He was convinced I still had the map, but he was never successful in finding it. It so happens I hid them under a sack full of… err… I'm not sure what, but the contents of it were foul enough to keep him away.

"We sailed a while, pillaging and plundering, rifling and looting, but never forgetting about the maps which he sought after dearly. When we stopped in Tortuga for a spell, we made a bet, during a rooster fight. He betted on the birds of a young man—Samuels, I believe his name was, the feller looked like a stork—and I betted on Madam Deryn's roosters. Whichever one of us won would keep the _Pearl_, and the other would have to find a ship of his own. Barbossa lost, thank God, so he commandeered another ship from some drunken, delusional traders and named it the _Bleak Hue_. When he was finally off _my_ ship, I searched for the maps in their hiding place. They were gone, and I was dead certain that Hector had not taken them. I searched nearly everywhere, but alas it seemed someone had stolen them. There was nothing that could be done; defeated in that aspect, we left yet again to go pirating some more after picking up a new crew, since Hector had taken some of my men with him. That's when Aden came aboard. So anyway, as time passed the missing maps drifted slowly out of my mind. But one day when we were in a little-known port— Cardroite, it was called—Evianne found out that someone in Tortuga had the maps. She's a wonderful spy. We've gained much information through her." Will thought he heard the plants rustle outside the kitchen window.

"But as I was saying—we had located the long-lost chart, which had, at the time, been missing for 17 years. Now the question was obtaining it. However there was a slight complication. Apparently, the East India Trading Company has its own spies. They must have made the connection between Evianne and myself, and so figured we would be heading to Tortuga first thing. Alas, that's just what we did. But everyone has their own agents nowadays, it seems. When we arrived at Tortuga, everyone was packing and ready to quickly skedaddle. They had received word that the armada was on its way.

"Luckily, the man we were searching for had not yet left. Evianne found him, struck a deal with him, and obtained our chart, and something more. But then she was, according to her narration, cornered on the streets. We left Tortuga in a rush. I don't think they followed us here, though, Elizabeth," he added, noting Elizabeth's look of alarm. "I think we made sure to make enough digressions from the logical course here to throw off any ships pursuing—not that we saw any, mind you.

"In any case… here we are. And we happen to have _two_ infamous maps in our possession."

He threw two charts onto the table. One Elizabeth recognized immediately.

"But Jack, this is—"

"The map we used to find and come back from Davy's locker, I know. But look more closely," he said patiently.

Elizabeth did what she was told. Her eyes traveled over parts of the map that were crystal clear in her memory—Up is Down, the verse about the green flash—but then she saw it. The small fountain, labeled as "Acua de Vida."

"You want me to travel with you to the Fountain of Youth?" asked Elizabeth,

recognizing the term.

"Ah… no. Well, actually, yes."

"Which is it?"

"All right… I do want you to come with me, but to save William, we must go somewhere else."

"Logically…. They never make it simple do they?"

"And he has to die."

"_What?_" said Elizabeth, now thoroughly alarmed. "I thought I made it clear I wanted him back _alive_!" Will eyed the captain suspiciously.

"Just look at the second one," said Jack, waving her off. "Everything will make more sense." Will moved to examine the second map from behind his mother.

The map showed a small area of ocean, peppered with islands. The largest one, near the outskirts, was once again labeled "Acua de Vida."

"When we discovered the whereabouts of our map, we heard of this one as well. Lucky thing, that the man in Tortuga owned both."

"Jack, I don't get this," said Elizabeth exasperatedly. "This… this is nothing, just a close-up of the fountain's geographical location."

Jack shook his head, smiling. He simply pointed to an island in the heart of the assembly. It was tiny, but the size of the cursive script labeling it rivaled the area of the island. Will squinted his eyes to read the mark.

"It says… 'Montana de Revivencia.' God…." William looked at the captain with wide eyes. "Captain Sparrow, is this _the_ map?" he asked excitedly.

Jack smiled smugly. "Aye."

"You know what this place is?" Elizabeth asked her son blankly.

"Of course! I have heard about it enough from the sailors."

"Elizabeth, it is _this _little sandbar, not the Fountain, that can bring back your husband William," started Jack. "Your son's right—nearly everyone who knows of the legend would love to get his or her hands on this precious parchment. The island is so important, that evil sea creatures, controlled by the caretaker Gregoire, guard it. Gregoire lets only the most worthy onto his island. All this protection is for one reason—this island has a _very_ special quality.

"Once in their lifetime, a visitor can bring _one_ person back to life and take him or her with them."

The sentence hung in the air.

"That's assuming the visitor gets to the island alive himself," William said grimly, breaking the tense silence.

"So, _your_ intention is to kill Will and go fetch him from this island?" asked Elizabeth skeptically. "And if it doesn't work? How can you be sure that you won't be destroyed, or that the island is a fake, or—"

"It's not a fake," said Will quickly. "And according to the stories, Gregoire _will_ allow a few people to pass and not be destroyed by the monsters."

"What a comfort, Will. Listen, Jack… why not simply make William visit the fountain of youth, become immortal. Then he could have someone stab—"

"The flaw in that being that if he drank from the fountain, his heart will never die, even if stabbed. Ergo meaning the curse would never be broken, ever," explained Jack. "So he'd be utterly worse off, never able to nurture any kind of hope of leaving the _Dutchman_. Not to mention that, even if the Fountain were to have the desired effect, he wouldn't be able to go on land."

Elizabeth looked around desperately. "Why not simply ask Calypso—," she started.

"Elizabeth it won't work, Calypso has no compassion whatsoever. Not to mention that we can't _ask_ her anything anyway because, in case you do not recall, nineteen years ago her human form exponentially increased in size and then dramatically exploded into a sea of crustaceans. _This_ is the only way."

"And if I don't agree to it?" Elizabeth challenged him.

"Then we can do nothing." Jack shrugged. "We need his heart Elizabeth, not just to kill him but to summon him as well!"

"But he can't come back to this world except once every ten—."

"Ten years, or if a blade is pressed against the captain's heart while it is at sea. That is another part of the legend. Otherwise, the killer and captain-to-be would not be able to take his place, would he?" said Jack with a tone of slight disgust. Then he continued, "Elizabeth, give us the heart, come with us. If the legend proves to be true, we can talk this over with William, and if he agrees, than we can temporarily end his life and be gone off to the Montana de Revivencia, and on the way back we can even stop by the Fountain of Youth! If he doesn't, well then… we can simply go to the Fountain of Youth!"

"Why not go to the Montana?" asked Will curiously.

"You have not heard the finer details of the legend?" Jack asked. Will shook his head. Jack sighed and continued, "Well, the answer to your inquiry would be this: It wouldn't be of much use. To bring a person back from that island, you need to be carrying the weapon that killed the said person. Which is why we managed to get the map so easily. Anyone who hears the legend of the Montana and seeks to bring back a lost relative inevitably gathers research on the subject, and therefore extracts this fact and realizes that the map will be useless to him or her. But, Elizabeth, because of this it is also imperative that _we_ kill William before anyone else does!"

Elizabeth stared at the map.

"But…" she started slowly. "Who would kill him?"

Jack's demeanor momentarily faltered. "We, er… were planning to cross that bridge when we came to it."

"Jack, honestly, how can you expect this plan to work if you haven't even figured—."

"We were planning to enlist one of his crew members," said Jack, clearly stating his refusal to go into more detail.

Elizabeth looked at him. She doubted that Jack would play a trick on them in this manner, but on the other hand, he _was_ a pirate…

_No. Jack knows what he's doing. I'll have to trust him. _

Suddenly, a curious thought occurred to her. "One last question, Jack. You mentioned that the East India Trading Company was pursuing you. I thought that had ended with the death of Cutler Beckett. Who is heading the company now?"

Jack hesitated, then said, "Henry Beckett, Cutler's father. Years ago, when he heard of his son's death, he began battling for the position. However, he has obtained it only recently, and by murder at that. Elizabeth… that man, he's gone mad. He blames Will for his son's death, and rightly so, but… well, just stay out of the Company's way, as you always have. There should be no trouble."

Elizabeth attempted to organize her own scrambled thoughts. Finally, she said, "All right Jack, you've convinced me." Jack took on a relieved expression. "You can have the heart, but… take extreme care, please."

"'Take extreme care?'" said Jack, relief vanishing and puzzlement taking its place. "Won't you be joining us?"

"No. I'm sorry, I can't."

"Elizabeth… it would be like the old days!" said Jack despairingly.

"No," she repeated firmly.

"Can't, or won't?" Will muttered.

"Stay out of this, Will," she said with a hint of impatience. "I'm not going, neither are you."

Will turned on his mother angrily. "You can lock _yourself_ away from the sea but I won't—"

Elizabeth glared at her son. "Well your _sea_ took away your father and _both_ your grandfathers, have you forgotten? I will _not_ let it wisp away yet another William Turner!"

"Elizabeth," Jack said in a cajoling voice. "Let him come! He should not suffer because of your qualms. I know Will would never have wanted that, or for you to be so traumatized by the ocean, for that matter."

The blow hit home and Elizabeth fell silent.

"Well," Jack stood up. "If you let him go, we'll be in port till tomorrow at midday. Nice seeing you again, love." He tipped his hat at Elizabeth and walked out of the house and onto the road, where night had already fallen.

"Shut up," said Elizabeth as Will opened his mouth to speak. "Say nothing or I might take these words back. All right. You can go, but just promise me you will _not_ get yourself killed."

"Promise," said Will, grinning broadly, and Elizabeth could not help but to return his grin with a small smile.

Anything not © Disney is © Mariel Sparrow

A/N- I'm sorry it took so long to put this up. I'm hoping I will never again spend months editing a single chapter! Reviews are appreciated greatly; suggestions are taken with a very open mind.


	3. Eighteen Years

"Will?" said Bootstrap Bill Turner to his son, who was gazing out into the darkness of the ocean.

"Yes?" Will answered, not taking his eyes off the black, macabre water that was lapping against the hull of the _Flying Dutchman_.

"A penny for your thoughts? You seem preoccupied."

Will smiled ruefully, and turning to his father he said, "Oh no, I'm not preoccupied. Just thinking. Thinking about… things."

"Elizabeth," stated his father.

"Elizabeth," Will nodded. "And... William."

Will turned back to the sea and closed his eyes. It pained him deeply to speak or even think of his son, William. The boy had been without a father all these years. He felt so _guilty_…. And now Will could not help but to think that the boy probably hated him deeply for all this….

"It's strange. In all these years I haven't really given them proper thought. I've just been... floating along. Waiting for the years to dissolve by themselves, until the day comes when I can finally see them again. And after that one day, those measly twenty four hours, I'll begin to drift through another decade…. How old would William be about now?"

"I'd figure eighteen or so," said Bootstrap, shrugging.

"Eighteen years without a father… Damn this whole business!" Will turned and pounded his fist on the ship's railing. A moment of silence followed, during which Bootstrap looked at his son with pain and pity.

"It's not your fault, Will. You didn't choose this," he finally said. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I think you can be sure that he'll have great success in life, if Elizabeth passed on to him all that you two both believed in. You're good people. And I'm sure that, even though you've never been around, your son loves you deeply."

Will turned on his father, frustrated. "How can you be sure? This is… wrong. I never wanted him to end up like—!" William abruptly silenced himself.

Bootstrap chuckled wryly. "Like you when _you_ were a boy, you mean. But what have I just said? There is no way he can hate you. You didn't _choose_ to leave your son. You had no say in what Jack Sparrow did for you, no choice to control Davy Jones' actions or Cutler Beckett's. Me, on the other hand… I knew _exactly_ what _I_ was doing. And you knew that, too, you always knew that I'd left you and your mother by my own accord. To fulfill my own dreams.

"Yet what did you do, first thing after your mother died? You set off, looking for me. And even today I ask myself, _why_, Will? During my time on the _Black Pearl_, I was sure that the son I had left behind despised me, knowing what I'd done. I was sure that I'd never see you, and even surer that you'd never seek me out. But then I was recruited by Jones. And we met, after all.

"At first, I could tell you _did_ resent me for what I had done, and you were correct in doing so. To this day I'm sorry I did what I did. Yet when I told you that you owed me _nothing_… you still swore to liberate me from my servitude to Jones.

"_You_ still loved your father, even with the knowledge that he'd made his choice willingly. So tell me, how can you _possibly_ believe that your son doesn't hold any affection for you, when _he_ knows that you have done everything in your power to try to return to him and his mother?"

There was a pause.

"Ponder it. Good night, Cap'n Turner," said Bootstrap. And with that, he turned and went below deck, leaving Will in a maelstrom of hopes and doubts.

Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	4. Only Knew Your Surname

After promising his mother he would be back soon, not get into any brawls, and go easy on the rum (which, she assured him, would never be of short supply on board the _Pearl_), William left his house behind and set off towards the main village. It was about nine 'o' clock, and Will did not encounter any living being except a stray cat, running down an alley. The streets were devoid of sound, save for the light chirping of the morning birds. Most of the other inhabitants of Isla Cosette were still dozing on this fine Saturday morning.

William strolled through the streets, whistling a tune on his way to Mr.Finch's forge, where he and his friend Malcolm worked their days away as Mr. Eurig Finch's apprentice. When William finally reached the old wooden door, he slipped a short message under the crack, explaining that he would not be coming to work for some time.

In comparison to the silence of the rest of the village, the docking area (a short walk away from the forge) was abuzz with activity as always. Supplies and cargo were being loaded onto various small ships to be taken to the next island over, and fishing boats were returning from their early work. Will scanned the dock and found the _Black Pearl_. Not that she was hard to miss, seeing as she was the largest and most majestic ship there.

Jack Sparrow was speaking with a bearded man when Will walked onto the deck, but spotted him straight away. "Mr. Gibbs, please hold your queries for a later, more fitting time. I have a matter to attend to," he said, and he rushed off leaving a stupefied Gibbs behind.

"Ah! Good morning, Mr. Turner, I'm quite glad you could make it after all," said Jack to Will, grinning and shaking his hand.

"It's a pleasure to be on board the _Pearl_, Captain. She's beautiful," replied Will.

"Ah, thank you lad. She is a bit behind the times, one might even go so far as to calling her an antique, but the _Black Pearl _has served me faithfully. Sunk twice and still here." The captain eyed his ship with a loving air. "Oh, and I grant you permission to call me Jack. Your father always did." There was a moment of silence. "Well, er, I'm a bit occupied at this precise moment, as you can probably see… seeing as we never got to meet Barbossa, we have shortage of, ah…_supplies_," Jack grumbled, more to himself than Will, who stared worriedly. "Anyway, perhaps if you locate my daughter she can show you around the ship? She's most likely up near the wheel with the bloody parrot." Jack motioned to Will's right, shaking his head.

"All right, thank you…." started Will, but the captain had already gone. Will turned and walked towards two ornate doors—he assumed these were the captain's quarters—and went up one of the sets of stairs that went up both sides.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Evianne leaning against the railing of the ship, looking out towards the ocean and humming a tune which he recognized as "The Coasts of High Barbary."

He had been gazing at her for a few moments, deciding whether or not to interrupt her reverie, when suddenly a shrill, nasal voice called out loudly next to him.

"Load the guns! Loads the guns! The savage landlubbers approach! GAHHHHH! ATTACK!" shrieked the blue macaw, flying into the air and then dive-bombing Will, who raised his arms just and moved just in time to shield himself from the merciless pecking of the bird. Evianne turned, alarmed.

"Hubert, stop this moment, else we'll be having a scrumptious dinner tonight! How do you think you'll like being carved into little cubes, eh?" she threatened the bird. However, Hubert seemed (or maybe pretended) not to hear. He apparently had his mind set upon hacking Will to death with his whetted beak. Hubert withdrew for a second attack towards Will. William ducked, Evianne lunged; Hubert missed Will and shrieked in annoyance, Evianne missed the parrot and nearly collided with a mop and bucket.

Hubert withdrew for yet another fearless attack. However, before the bird reached its target, Evianne picked up the water-filled bucket from the deck and threw its contents out on Hubert.

"No more flying in the meantime for _you_, impish avian," she said, picking up the sopping bird and tying a handkerchief firmly around him, gluing his wings to his body. Hubert protested loudly but Evianne held on tightly.

"My sincere apologies, Mr. Turner. Hubert's very… protective." Evianne shrugged. "He just doesn't take too well to strangers; he's gone somewhat senile in his old age I suppose. I'll try and keep him out of your way," she laughed apologetically, placing the helpless parrot on top of the wheel.

"It's no problem…," Will said, looking cautiously at Hubert, who was now looking daggers at him through those murderous, steely eyes.

Evianne smiled slightly. "Well, I'm Evianne Sparrow. I didn't really introduce myself yesterday."

"I understand, we all have places to be, things to do…. In any case, I'm Will Turner. Although I guess you already knew my name," he said in reply, shaking her proffered hand. For a nanosecond, it crossed Will's mind how pretty her eyes were….

Evianne shook her head. "I only knew your surname. You can't imagine how many times Jack has spoken about your parents," she said, smiling. "He never knew _you_ existed, though."

"Same. My mother constantly talks about the famous 'Captain' Jack Sparrow. But apparently, she was quite shocked to learn he'd married. But you know, she'd never really told me much of consequence about him, just some descriptions of the journeys they shared. She often holds in a lot of details about her past…. Especially where my father's concerned."

"It pains Jack to talk about my mother as well."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Well, anyway, Mr. Turner, I assume Jack asked you to find me so I could show you around?" said Evianne, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Oh. Yes," William replied, snapping out of his thoughtful state. "And call me Will, please, that's what my friends call me. I'd like to count you among them," he added quickly, and as soon as he did he mentally chastised himself for being an idiot.

Evianne, however, smiled. "All right then, Will. If that's the case, you currently find yourself conversing with plain old Evianne. Follow me, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

She went down the stairs, but just as Will made to follow her, he noticed that Hubert had remained behind, still detained and unwillingly seated at the helm.

"Feathery git," Will mouthed at him. The bird replied with a strange hiss, at which point Will thought it best to follow Evianne.

He was in such a hurry to get down the stairs that he nearly crashed into the captain's daughter, who had stopped midway down and was staring at something out on the horizon.

"Oh no…," Will saw her whisper, and then she rushed down the few remaining stairs and walked briskly and quickly to where her father was standing. Will followed, surveying the horizon for any foreign object. The only thing he saw was a few ships….

But was it a trick of light and distance, or was one of them five times larger than all the others?

"Jack!" called Evianne as she approached the captain and Mr. Gibbs, who were once again in a heated conversation. Coming up to them, Evianne gripped Jack's arm. "Jack, take a look at that ship!"

"Who, what? Where? Why?" said Jack, squinting at the horizon and spotting the ship.

"Don't you think it's a bit too big for a simple trading vessel?" said Evianne grimly.

Jack took out his telescope and surveyed the object for a few seconds. He lowered his telescope, looking considerably shaken and alarmed.

"But… How did he_find_ us! We made twenty course deviations just to throw him off, we—."

_He?_ thought Will.

"Well it seems that what we did obviously wasn't sufficient. We should leave. Now. They're still far away, maybe they haven't seen us yet. We can still sneak past them!"

"Agreed," said Jack, and then he yelled to his crew, "To your stations, all of you, we're leaving! _Now_! Step to, quickly, come on!"

A flurry of activity later, the _Black Pearl_ was leaving the small island of Isla Cosette behind.

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Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow 


	5. Pawns

Henry Beckett could not believe his eyes when he saw, from afar, the _Black Pearl_ at Isla Cosette. It was such an obvious move, to visit the home of Elizabeth Swann, or, as his sources told him, Elizabeth _Turner_…. How dense of Sparrow, how very dense.

_Well I must say that in this case, your legends do not precede you, _Captain_ Sparrow. They all make you out to be a much wittier man than you really are_, he thought, smiling.

"Orders, sir?" said the captain of the ship, walking into Beckett's office. "Should we go in and capture them now, or pursue them as they leave?"

"Neither, Mr. Matthiesen." Beckett smiled. "Even though I would love to get my hands on Jack Sparrow, everything must come in due course. I wish to seize my primary target first. _Then_ comes Sparrow shall be taken care of, as well as that bothersome daughter of his. They shall all serve a high purpose in my plans. In condensed form: We will dock at Isla Cosette as planned, no changes will be made to our schedule."

"Sir, with all due respect… we're letting this man just _sail past us_?"

"Do not worry, Edward. I have everything arranged, we will eventually capture him, make no mistake. Now, do not further criticize my orders, just do what I tell you. Otherwise you will be seeing a court martial in your near future… or worse! Am I understood, Captain Matthiesen?"

The captain snapped to attention. "Yes, sir," he said dutifully, and headed out to give his men orders.

Henry Beckett sighed. All these stupid, tiny people. They only got in his way. Did the captain really believe he would have a 'near future'? They were all still _alive _only because he needed them to sail the ship. But once this whole charade with the Sparrows and the Turners was over, after his _vengeance_… he would dispose of them all. If Edward Matthiesen ever faced a court martial, he'd be lucky, exceptionally lucky.

_These men are all pawns in my little game of chess. The least important pieces. I need them to assist the paramount movements, but once they have served their purpose... Well, dear old Mr. Harisson ended up learning what comes next, didn't he? His role really did end all too quickly._

Henry leaned back in his chair and smiled with pleasure.

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Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow

A/N- I know, two chapters at once... amazing, eh?! lol Enjoy!


	6. Settled and Content

"Ah! I told you!" exclaimed Evianne, dismayed as William knocked down her king for the umpteenth time this evening. "God. Of all things, a sailor should be able to play chess passably, no?" She stared at the pieces in a frustrated manner. Will just laughed.

"So, let's see… how many is that won?"

"Don't even start…."

"Ah, yes. Seventeen. That's right. Phew, this is tough competition."

"If you don't shut up, I may be forced to counter your derision in a violent manner, you know."

"Is that a threat?"

Evianne smiled mischievously and shrugged. "Let's go outside… we've been playing long enough. And it's very stuffy in here," she added.

William arched an eyebrow at her. "Of _course_ it is."

She ignored his comment, got up from the rickety desk and walked across the miniscule room to the door, and William followed her. Evianne's cabin _could_ be stuffy at times—but no wonder, seeing as it was actually a converted cupboard.

He walked out and breathed the fresh evening's air, savoring the taste of the open ocean that rode on the breeze. In the west the sun was beginning to set; brilliant hues colored the sky like an impressionist painting. Shades of orange, pink, yellow, even some purple and a hint of the blue which had dominated the day—they blended together, creating a breathtaking explosion, giving everything a warm golden glow and casting brilliant reflections into the sea.

Evianne walked up beside him. "Beautiful, eh? I've seen it every day of my life, but, you know… the pulchritude and awe never fade away."

"Well, we definitely don't get these on Cosette," said Will, staring into the horizon admiringly.

Evianne turned to him thoughtfully. "What's it like? Being a 'landlubber' as Hubert put it?"

Will snorted. "The bloody bird's got it wrong; I am _not_ a landlubber. I'm a sailor. A settled sailor, but nonetheless… not a landlubber."

"Settled, eh?"

"Settled and content on Isla Cosette, yes."

"Sorry, Turner, but I don't believe you. You are deceiving yourself—or trying to, at any rate. That's what I say."

"You _do_ now, Sparrow?"

"Aye. If you were 'settled and content' you wouldn't be out here, would you? How illogical. For you to be out here out of longing for new experiences, for an adventure."

"I didn't come for new experiences! I came to save my father, and that is all! Once this is over, I'll return with him to Isla Cosette."

"And you're certain that's what you want?"

Will opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated.

Evianne continued after a moment of silence, "Because, you know, it doesn't really have to be that way…."

"What other choice do I have, exactly?" said Will simply.

Evianne rolled her eyes and was about to speak when suddenly the heart of the horizon flashed with a brilliant emerald gleam, forcing them to turn away. In a split second it was over; but the two stared confoundedly at the water a few ways off. It was frothing violently, as if some gargantuan creature were rising from the depths of the sea.

"What the…?"

They could hear bewildered shouts of accomplishment coming from the helm of the _Black Pearl_.

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Author's Note- So sorry this took so long. I had to rewrite, the old version really wasn't working x)

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Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	7. Cold

The grungy pipe organ that could be found in the captain's quarters aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ had not been played for many years. Captain William Turner had often considered ordering its removal from the ship, but truthfully he couldn't bring himself to instruct his crew to carry out that particular order. Personalizing Davy Jones's quarters seemed like resigning himself to spending an eternity aboard this ship… something he wouldn't yet do.

And so it had remained aboard the Flying Dutchman all these years. William often found himself staring at its towering pipes, which loomed above him like an intricate forest of metal kelp and coral. A _net _of metal kelp and coral, which he often found tugging at his consciousness, wanting to poison his thoughts. But no matter the temptation, he never, ever played it, not since that one day. He had not touched a single dusty, pale key since the first time he had left Elizabeth on Isla Cosette.

William remembered that day with clarity. He had been sitting in this very room, wallowing in his anguish and bitterness.

_He noticed the organ against the wall and walked over to it. He sat at the bench, and began stroke the lunar keys. It was an innocent move, done out of simple curiosity. But it surprised him how naturally he struck a tune—at first it was a simple aria, played with a single finger; but then the organ seemed cast its spell further, and soon he'd found himself playing an elaborate melody. _

Despair had seemed to flood his bloodstream; he found himself falling into a black hole of abulia. He wished for freedom from this curse—any freedom by any means. He could not think clearly—William Turner only knew that he despised this existence and everyone who had to do with it. This was his world: one of anguish and a terrible, consuming hatred. Oh, what he could do to Jack Sparrow, if he simply gave the order to return to the realm of the living! The kraken was no longer alive, but there was always—

At that point William stopped playing.

No! He would not let himself turn into what Davy Jones had become—a cruel monster. He could not let the situation infiltrate his sense of what was right and wrong.

He'd done it before, hadn't he? He'd stood up for his morals and risked his life by doing so. And saving none other than the very man who had caused all this.

_"On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency. And this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with him? He's a pirate!" exclaimed Governor Swann.  
_

_"And a good man. If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."_

Had that really been twenty years ago? Hell… had that really been _him_? It seemed so far away now, like another lifetime. Port Royal, Brown's forge, Fort Charles….

William sighed. These thoughts were getting him nowhere—he had better continue his letter. He looked away from the organ on the far side of the room, repositioned his chair so he could write properly on the burnished ayan table, and read what he'd written so far:

_Elizabeth,_

_Well, there haven't been any novelties, not since yesterday. That is the problem with writing these letters every day, I suppose. We very seldom encounter anything of interest, and anything that does happen, I've already written about… but I still write these letters every single day, Elizabeth. When we meet, in a few months, you'll have quite a few to read. Ten years' worth of words. I hope this poor captain's ravings aren't driving you mad. And I hope you have not yet gotten sick of hearing the phrase "I love you, Elizabeth."_

_I know, this letter has an odd note of finality to it… but a few months until I see you again is nothing to me now, not after ten years._

_I've though much about you lately, and William._

Will sighed. How was he to continue this letter?

He put his pen to the thick parchment.

Then, suddenly the world went as dark as the ink he was using. An icy cold sensation assaulted his senses as the world did somersaults.

He desperately tried to gather his thoughts; what was this sensation? He had felt it before!

And then in a moment of consternation, he knew.

The world rearranged himself around him, the color returned, and the cold sensation left him. But William was still shaking with revelation.

The sensation of cold metal. Cold metal on flesh, that's what it had been. A blade against his heart… but who would know of that part of the legend? How did they obtain the chest?

_Perhaps_, thought Captain Turner as he felt the _Dutchman_ sink below the dark waters, _I'll be seeing her sooner than I thought._

.

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* * *

Author's Note- Ayan is a type of wood. I _am_ aware that it also means "epilepsy" in Indonesian, but that is not the intended meaning here… I just thought I'd clarify that point of confusion. We can't have dear William writing on an epileptic table, now, can we?

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Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	8. Don't Gawk

"Oh my God…. Will, it's the _Flying Dutchman_!"

"I—He—how?" Will stammered.

_This is a dream. In a few moments I'll wake up in my cabin on the _Pearl_ and find out this was all a dream…A dream…_

"I don't know… Come on!" said Evianne excitedly. As Will made to follow, he felt a painful rap on the back of his head. Courtesy, he was sure, of Hubert; so this was not a dream. (Hubert only showed himself in nightmares.)

Evianne hurried over to the helm, where Jack and Gibbs stood. The Dead Man's Chest was open in front of them. Knife in hand, Jack was grinning at the jaws of the _Flying Dutchman_, which had surfaced a ways off; the water around it was still perturbed.

"Jack, what've you done!" said Evianne, staring at him incredulously; her tone was torn between chastisement and awe.

"I've elicited the _Flying Dutchman_, what does it seem like I've done? Stop gawking, love."

"Oh, Jack! I thought we'd agreed—"

Suddenly a call from the other ship interrupted her. "Jack Sparrow!

"Captain Turner! It's been a long time!" called Jack back, turning away from his daughter and walking towards the side of the ship. Will's heart seemed to stop as the figure on the other ship called back. He'd heard that voice once, nine years ago, but recognized it nonetheless. (Or had he simply been _expecting_ this…?)

"Yes, it has. And you'd better have had a damn good reason for summoning me, Jack!" bellowed Captain Turner. "How did you get the—"

"It is a matter of utmost delicacy, William. May we come aboard?"

A thoughtful pause.

"Make haste! The sooner I get back… the better."

Jack shot a grin at the William Turner next to Evianne; the boy looked pale and in shock. Then he called to the Will on the _Dutchman_, "Alrighty, then. We shall transport ourselves over to your ship post-haste!

"Will, Evianne, would you two like to join me?"

Most obviously a rhetorical question.

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* * *

Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	9. A Proposal

When Jack, Evianne, and Will climbed onto the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, Captain Turner was anticipating their arrival.

"Jack!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Despite the circumstances, I must say I'm really quite glad to see you."

"Likewise, Captain Turner!" replied Jack, equally enthusiastic. "Right to the grain of the matter, I have a proposal you will likely find intriguing. And I've brought along two people I would like you to meet. This is my daughter, Evianne."

After shooting a questioning glance at Jack, William looked at Evianne, and greeted her with a polite, smiling nod. Then his eyes traveled to his son.

Captain Turner stiffened. The smile disappeared from his eyes, even his eyes, like a candle flame snuffed out by a chilled breeze. For a moment the two Williams stared at one another.

"What… What are you doing here? Where is your mother?" the captain asked icily.

"I—She's at home. She's all right; she just didn't feel like coming. She avoids the sea." He fell abruptly silent and glanced at his father nervously.

"I… see."

Suddenly he turned away. "Jack," he said tonelessly. "Explain why you've summoned me. Wait, not here," he added tensely, looking warily around as if he were being watched. He shot one last dispassionate glance at his son. Then, accompanied by Jack, Turner stalked off to the captain's cabin.

"I— He—what did I do?" blurted Will after a moment of tense silence.

Evianne shook her head. "I don't know. I don't understand," she said in a hushed tone, placing her hand lightly on Will's shoulder. "I don't understand at all, Will."

"You… you'd think he'd be glad," said Will flatly. He and Evianne still stood staring at the closed door of the captain's quarters.

"Oh, he is," said a gruff voice behind them. They turned, and behind them was a man who seemed strangely familiar to both of them.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Well, you're William Turner III, aren't you?"

Will stared at him. "Yes… Yes, I am."

"I can tell you, boy, there hasn't been but one day when he's not thinking of you and the girl, Elizabeth. He's been caught off guard."

"Who are you?" asked Evianne, not impolitely.

"My name is William Turner. Bill Turner. Bootstrap Bill. Whichever nickname takes your fancy, miss." He smiled.

Will's mouth opened slightly. "You can't be…" he stammered, knowing very well that this man certainly _could _be his grandfather.

"How old are you, boy?" Bootstrap asked.

"Eighteen," stammered Will, taken out of his stunned reverie.

"Hm," grunted Bootstrap thoughtfully.

An awkward silence arose between Will, Bootstrap, and Evianne.

"You do indeed look like a Sparrow," Bootstrap finally said to Evianne. She smiled slightly.

The atmosphere relaxed, and a slight smile played across Evianne's features. "So I'm often told. Is it a curse, though?" she added ruefully.

"I never did think Jack Sparrow would marry. Much less have children. But alas, times change, and we with them. We start out life one way, but by the time life's through with most of us…

"Well. No use sittin' around waiting for those two." He nodded toward the cabin door. "Would you two like to see more of the _Dutchman_?"

- - - - - -

"Jack, you expect me to believe this… this _fairytale_? This '_Montana'_ or whatever it's called can't possibly exist… and maybe this is just you trying to be admired as some heroic fool or—"

"Master Turner, I can assure you this place _does_ exist on our dimensional plane. And I'm_ not_ simply trying to be a _deus ex machina _or something of the class! It pains me that you or anyone else should think me capable of that, actually." Jack sniffed and turned away with an offended expression.

William rolled his eyes. "All right, you're not trying to appear to be a '_deus ex machina_,'" Will said, impatience lining his voice. "But _this place isn't real_. If it were, please explain why everyone isn't flocking over to—"

"But I've informed you why already, Master Turner," said Jack in a painfully patient tone. "I repeat. First: possessing the maps is something most of the world's population will never achieve. Second: Even if one _does_ achieve possession of said maps, which I reiterate as unlikely to begin with, quite nearly all owners are discouraged when they find out about the law stating that the possessor must bring the weapon that killed the deceased whom you aim to return to this world. Not to mention Gregoire's sea beasties…" Jack added as a worried afterthought, more to himself than Will.

Turner's brow furrowed. "Sea monsters? Lovely… This is madness."

Jack turned back and sighed. "Listen, William. Elizabeth's agreed to attempt this endeavor. All we need is your consent. We'll each go on our merry, separate ways from here— you back to your ocean of everlasting night and we on our journey to this bloody _Montana_ place. When we arrive, I can _prove_ to you that it's real… and then, of course, we shall proceed according to plan."

"Jack, you're forgetting something," sighed Will. "I'm due back on Isla Cosette in a few months. Who knows how long this _journey_ of yours will take?"

"I'm sure Elizabeth wouldn't mind an _awful_ lot if you skipped one day together for the sake of spending the rest of her lifetime with her. Plus, it is not as if you will be accompanying with the _Pearl _till judgment day. We shall summon you again when we arrive. Savvy?"

William sighed again. "And if this is just something to cover up one of your hidden, 'piratical' motives…"

"There goes the man again. William, now, why would I use this situation as some false front to hide my intentions? What hidden motives could I _possibly_ have? I want, if possible, a chance to gain immortality. If on the way I can help others, then why not?" Suddenly he became quiet and diverted his eyes from William.

Will actually jumped in surprise. _Is this Jack Sparrow or his alter-ego identical twin?_ "Since when do you care about others? What happened to, 'Take what you can, give nothing back'?"

"William Turner, I…" Jack faltered for a moment, but regained momentum. However, he turned away and studied the pipe organ carefully as he spoke in his confident voice. "If you _must_ know, Captain, I feel directly responsible for your demise. And the passage of life has a way of reshuffling one's priorities; I am not the selfish fool I was."

Deja vu? The last time Jack had spoken of "reshuffling priorities," Will had ended up in the sea clutching a corpse waiting to be rescued by the East India Trading Company. Not a 'confidence in Jack' inducing memory, and the wheels could practically be seen turning behind Turner's face.

When Will was finally able to speak, his voice sounded strained. "All right then. We'll try this. I've not got much to lose, do I?"

Jack turned away from the organ and flashed his signature charming grin. However, it struck Will how much older he looked.

Then again, Jack _was_ nineteen years older than last time they'd met. Was he, William, the only one untouched by time?

Suddenly, the _Flying Dutchman_ jolted as if it had been hit; men yelled orders on deck with panicked voices. The two captains looked at each other, then bolted out of the room.

The pipe organ shuddered and protested loudly with the ship.

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Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	10. A Swan's Perch

The gentle wind caressed Elizabeth's face as she looked out onto the empty seascape, the ocean's waves lapping and murmuring their repetitive song softly near her feet.

How she loved the sea! With its endless horizons, it seemed to be free of any boundaries. her son—and everyone—truly believed she avoided it by choice? Ever since she'd been a girl, she'd been drawn to this great, sapphire plane; its secrets, which hid at every nook and around every corning, just waiting for her to unravel them. How tempting Jack's offer had been, and how easily she could have followed him.

But no; she'd turned him down for a reason. As much as she did wish to escape her prison, this island she was left behind on, love for her husband detained her. She had a duty to fulfill here on Cosette. If she left, she would be leaving tangled in a net of qualms.

She recalled what she'd told herself while seeing her son walk down the road, taking his path to the _Pearl_ without her: _Better a sure chance at seeing William than a fleeting possibility. _This opportunity could, for all she knew, be the last she'd see her husband in her short mortal lifespan. One just never knew, did they?

How she missed him…

But his heart was in a safe place.

"Miss Elizabeth!" came a sudden call. Elizabeth looked up at the path leading from the top of the cliffs to the beach—the source of the urgent call being a black-haired, green-eyed young man.

"Hello, Malcolm! Does Natelle need help with something?" she started in a friendly manner. But as he ran down the path, she saw Malcolm's face. Something was terribly wrong.

Malcolm had been five years old when she'd first come to Isla Cossette. It had been his father and mother who'd helped her construct her modest home, and the boy had been an "older brother" to William as they grew up together. Now, they both worked at the forge in town as apprentices.

she'd known him very well for a long time. She watched him grow up into the decent and honorable man he was. She was there at his wedding, she'd consoled him and Jonathan Longdeck when his mother died… all in all, she had very, _very _rarely seen him so agitated.

"What's wrong? Natelle…"

"She's fine! She's fine! Miss Elizabeth…," he paused, panting heavily for breath. He'd run the whole way here from town, apparently.

"Malcolm, relax. What's wrong?" asked Elizabeth again, a little panicky now herself.

"Soldiers!" Malcolm managed to get out once he was breathing a bit normally. "Soldiers, apparently ordered here by the East India Trading Company. They're asking about you all around town, and even though I'm sure most people will have enough sense to keep their mouths shut, there's always the imbecile out there…" He trailed off, his gaze flickering towards the town, a busy dot in the distance.

Elizabeth stared at him horrified, her hand over her mouth as she exclaimed softly, "But… impossible, he said they wouldn't find me!"

"Who? Oh, never mind! we can still get you off the island if we dash to the dock." He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. Elizabeth did not hesitate.

She and Malcolm sprinted through the meadows and the small sugar cane plantation, and then through town, careful to avoid any soldiers they might possibly run in to.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when she finally saw the familiar dock.

"Wait here, Miss Elizabeth… I've told Fred Stevens to ready his ship, I see him right there," said Malcolm. Old Fred was, indeed, standing on the dock. His back was to them.

Suddenly a horrible though occurred to Elizabeth as Malcolm reached out to tap Fred on the shoulder. "Malcolm, wait, NO!"

"Not to worry, we'll just be hopping to the next isle, I know you don't enjoy the sea but—" Malcolm stopped suddenly. He looked on in horror as he discovered that the captain was dead. And that he was face-to-face with a regal old man clad in a white wig and an insanely wicked smile. His blade, in hand, was stained scarlet.

"Oh, they haven't changed in these twenty years…," said Elizabeth softly as troops circled her and Malcolm.


	11. No Colours Flying!

"I inquired, _WHAT IS HAPPENGING, Master Gibbs?_" Captain Jack Sparrow hippopotamized as he returned aboard the _Black Pearl._

"Enemy cannonade, Cap'n!" answered Gibbs promptly from the bridge.

"_Colors?_" shouted Jack, climbing smoothly up the stairs to reach him.

"None of the vessels be flyin' any!"

"Halt, about-face…_ vessels?_ More than one bloody ship, you say?"

It was then that Jack turned, telescope in hand. He didn't even need it.

"Oh." He stood there for a moment. It was then that a cannon shot hit the balustrade directly to his right.

"Bugger!" He jumped, then began to shout orders― Yes, there was an armada of enemy ships out there, if barely visible by the first light. They had just made evident their wish to blow them to smithereens. But the _Black Pearl _was not to be called the fastest ship in the Caribbean for naught, old as she may be.

------

Captain Turner banged his fist on the desk. "_Do you realize the position you've put me in?"_

"It's not our fault, how were we―?" started Evianne.

"i_Jack Sparrow is sailing in the other direction!_" the captain exclaimed heatedly. "We can't turn back, those ships will destroy us. I'm stuck with _you_ two insolent, irresponsible, witless, _stupid._.." He stopped, seething and breathing angrily. But suddenly he exhaled, and his face took on a malapropos icy visage.

"Well. You don't have many choices, now that you've decided to join us," he continued as he made to sit behind the desk, his tone eerily calm now. "You can't come with us to the Other Sea. We can't stay long enough to take you back to the _Pearl._ You'll have to take a dinghy. But... oh, never mind, God. Bootstrap, fix them a boat. Well, what are you waiting for? _Go._ And you two, follow him, _out._" He motioned Will and Evianne outside expectantly, and became quite interested in a manuscript paper on his desk.

Will further rooted himself to the spot. "No." He'd not be shooed away like an unwanted dog, much less by this man. The captain looked up at them, his eyes murderous.

"Listen, boy, you've just forced me to turn you onto death's doorstep itself. Quiet and go." Captain Turner pointed at the door where Bootstrap still stood, then returned to the ink-covered sheets with renewed interest.

"Finally! The almighty captain directs a word at his son. Apocalyptic. What is _wrong _with you?" demanded Will with a growing fury, approaching his father at the polished ayan table. "So you've finally seen me after all these years, these nine years, right? You'd think any father would at least _greet _his son after all this time! I barely remember you from back then, ten years ago when I was merely a kid, but―"

"Turner, show _some _restraint…." Evianne muttered darkly from the corner.

"― but I do remember me thinking what a good man you were. And throughout these nine years I was looking forward to a time when I'd see you again, as a man, and be able to remember you clearly, not just as a hazy part of an already faded childhood memory. I suppose my hopes were staked onto the wrong story; I come and find nothing but a _coward._ Yes, Evianne, he's a coward." Will turned back to his father, whose face still resembled a stone sculpture. "Bootstrap says he fears me, I'm assuming he didn't want to be _shunned._ But what escapes me is how you could think-- You didn't have to ignore me, you know! I didn't exactly wait nine years to be ignored by my father once I got to meet him. Like I said, my expectations must have been insane, part of a nice fairy tale interpretation of everything I've been told…. Or, perhaps, all my mother's stories were lies, eh? Otherwise, the other world must take all the character out of a body. Some namesake and some father I have. If you thought I despised you before, you've certainly assured the situation _now._"

William grabbed Evianne's hand so suddenly she gave a start, and pulled her out of the captain's cabin. Captain Turner still sat at his desk, wearing a mask of callous indifference towards anything his son had spoken. Just as the door was slamming shut behind him, he turned to shout one last insult― and saw Captain William Turner shaking at his desk, his face in his hands. Guilt and remorse stabbed the captain's son.

But the heavy doors shut, clouting each other with a deathly note of finality.

Will Turner III only looked up again as he and Evianne boarded the dinghy. Bootstrap Bill did not speak, but rather looked at them with an expression of deep pity and guilt. Once they were down in the boat and the_ Dutchman _began to move away, they could see him waving an ultimate farewell.

"We've made an atrocious mistake, Turner," commented Evianne subduedly.

Turner turned to her. "How was it _ours?_"

"It was folly to think that we – all of us – could meddle in the affairs of fate and Calypso, and extricate ourselves unscathed."

The first rays of dawn shattered the darkness. The boat rocked gently while they looked at the gliding _Flying Dutchman _in grim silence. And then―

A sudden green flash. They found themselves staring at their imminent graves: The open, desolate sea, deserted not only by Jack Sparrow and the _Black Pearl _but now William Turner and the _Flying Dutchman._

.

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* * *

Anything not © Disney is © the user Mariel Sparrow


	12. Tea

"You look much like my daughter. Pity."

"If I _were_ your daughter, Mr. Beckett, I'd sneak into the household kitchens and poison your tea."

"Well, well. And if you, Mrs. Turner, _were _my daughter, I must say I'd indeed drink it. I much wonder how Weatherby managed to rein you in as a child." He offered her a small glass, which she rejected with a fierce glare.

"You should have asked, before your foul son killed him."

"Governor Swann was an obsolete entity, securing his fall by failing to understand that loyalty was, as it is now, archaic. However, you killed that son, Cutler Beckett. Perhaps I should elect to reciprocate. Why don't I bring your _own_ son up, so your mouth may be clamped shut?" He sighed and sank into his chair, behind a grandiose desk. "I've a lesser tolerance for interruptions than Cutler, you will find." Elizabeth stared wide-eyed. How had they captured Will? Had Jack betrayed her? Beckett smiled and looked past her to a guard at the entrance. "Bring him up from the brig." The soldier nodded and turned to exit.

After a few minutes – filled for Elizabeth only with her own racing heartbeat – the guard finally appeared again at the door, dragging along a handcuffed youth. When the window's muffled yellow light hit his face, Elizabeth almost laughed with relief.

As Malcolm was pushed into the room, he glared first at his escort and then chanced a chagrined smile at Elizabeth, before his gaze rested on Henry Beckett. A smirk decorated the older man's withered features.

"You must look nothing like your husband, Mrs. Turner. Your son bears nigh unto no resemblance to you. A fortunate circumstance, that which brought you both into my grasp. I'm sure you'll now be comporting yourself in a _very_ cooperative fashion."

If Malcolm was confused by the old man's remarks, he showed no sign of it, simply standing there and staring daggers at his captor. Elizabeth riveted her gaze on Beckett. "What is it you want?"

Henry Beckett's laughter was laden with dryness and age, after which ensued a moment of smug silence. Elizabeth glared at him venomously, waiting for a response.

"Well, madame, for now I simply want you to listen.

"Nearly two decades ago, two ships' captains – William Turner and Jack Sparrow – murdered my son, Cutler Beckett."

"You're repeating yourself, Mr. Beckett, like a parrot with brain fever. What do you _want_?"

He suddenly flash a wicked smile. "Revenge, Mrs. Turner. Sweet and simple, isn't it?" He leaned towards her, his voice lowering in volume and rising in exhilaration. "I've not told anyone my plans as of yet – as a leader of the East India Company, I do hold that privilege – but I think you yourself should know what is to await you.

"I'm going to retrieve the Dead Man's Chest from Sparrow, and use its contents to summon William Turner and the _Flying Dutchman_. Once he has presented himself, he will watch his loved ones die. That is, he will have to watch you die, Elizabeth, you and your son. Then I'll kill the honorable captain himself, but only after he has suffered all he can. Brilliant revenge, ah, brilliant."

He erupted into wheezing laughter while everyone, including the guard at the door, looked on in a horrified manner. _How does he know I don't have the chest myself? _Elizabeth then slapped herself mentally._ Of course. They searched the house, and most likely saw the _Black Pearl_ leaving Isla Cosette...._

"And then," Beckett continued, still chuckling. "Then, I'll go after Sparrow. Sparrow and his impertinent, rash daughter." He took a drink.

Elizabeth swallowed and finally found her tongue again, which proved difficult after this outward display of megalomania. "What are your terms, then?"

Beckett looked up, raising his eyebrows. "_Terms_?" he guffawed. "Terms? There _are_, no terms, Mrs. Turner!"


	13. Daughter Of A Merchant

Reunions Ch 13

"I wish we at least had some music."

Evianne laughed softly. "I don't." She sighed and looked out at the sea, the horizon showing the first symptoms of the day's death. Nothing could be heard in the open ocean. "I never did like music at all. It's a compilation of noises, arranged in a way that makes sense to the human ear. I fail to find any captivating attributes to it. It's chaotic, too analogous to the chaos of life." She dipped her hand into the water. "Don't you sometimes find you'd rather pause on the beach and stop – regardless of any duties or chores, man-made burdens – just stop and breathe in the salty air, and listen to the deep voice of the waves, and hear the seagulls babbling in the distance?" She looked up at him sadly. "The rhythm of nature is that which we should follow, not that of man. We are our own captives."

"I think you misinterpret the point of music."

"No, I don't think I do. Then again, I grew up to Hubert singing sea shanties. That might've traumatized me slightly, come to think of it."

"For what it's worth, it was very poetic."

Evianne sighed. "According to Jack, my mother did love poetry." 

The boat bobbed as the sun dropped lower in the sky. Evianne then sighed. "You and your mother are very close."

"Mother only has me, and I her. I love her, and we can't very well hold grudges or hate each other, we need each other to scrape a living."

Evianne nodded, staring at the floor of the boat. "I understand, very well." She looked back up at him. "But really, who knows? With Jack's wondrous plan we may have your father back within a short time."

"Perhaps," sighed Will. "Evianne... She talks about him so much, and from my old memories.... I've always dreamed of the day he'd be freed, and I'd actually have a father. A time when I'd not just talk to him for a day, and then have to wait another decade. Even if he's shattered my expectations, that still doesn't change much...."

Evianne disregarded this last comment. "And you're... your family is actually having the chance to get him back. Lucky duck," she said with mock jealousy, though William saw just a hint of the real thing, deep in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Evianne—"

"No, really, it's fine," she cut him off quickly. "Really, Will, it brings me joy to see that someone with opportunities I'll never have values them, even after what happened today on the _Dutchman_. I'll never see my mother, no matter how far I travel or what perils I face."

_I won't either, unless we witness a miracle. _"You've not mentioned her at all before."

"Speaking of her around Jack is like treading upon thin ice."

"Jack happens to not be here," Will cajoled.

Evianne rolled her eyes, but sighed in a signal of surrender. "Well. Get comfortable," she sighed. "It's quite tragic, you know, how she ended up marrying a pirate… She was actually the daughter of a rich merchant; the Matthiesens were quite up there in the English social ladder. But when her father was unjustly accused of treason to the crown, he was executed. My grandmother escaped England with her daughter, Lauren Adena, and two sons, Thomas and Edward. They ended up in Port Royal ahead of the soldiers. But on the way to Tortuga, where they were planning to settle and hide from the Royal Navy, their ship was attacked.

"My grandmother was killed, and so was one of my mother's brothers, Thomas. My mother was thirteen at the time, and her remaining brother, Edward, was eighteen. They survived, finished the journey to Tortuga by working their passage on a vessel with a tolerative captain, and lived there on the island. But Edward left after four years; despite his father's past 'crimes,' he'd managed to obtain a post with the East India Trading Company. He left Tortuga without so much as a glance back or a single word of farewell. Simply disappeared one day, leaving his seventeen-year-old sister to fend for herself on the island.

"My mother only found out his whereabouts by way of a letter he sent her many months later. She neither saw nor spoke to him after he left, but years later she finally wrote her reply to his single letter. It said, quite simply, that she'd married and was leaving Tortuga . She told him it would do no good for him to try to reach or find her again. Ever."

"So I surmise you've never received word from your uncle?" asked Will.

Evianne shook her head. "Never from him directly. He most likely has no clue I exist, or that his sister Adena is dead. But the name Matthiesen enters the Navy swines' conversation quite often. From spying, I learned he's now a prominent ship's captain. Working closely with Henry Beckett," she said disgustedly. "I'd not hesitate to kill him. He was no family of my mother's, and no family of mine."

"That's a bit harsh," said Will.

Evianne smiled ruefully. "Life's harsh, Will. Just look around you."

The sky was a pale gold now, splashed with pastel hues which the glittering water reflected like a paint-laden canvas. The sun was a small, bright crown still sitting above the horizon, sinking almost imperceptibly into the endless expanse of the sea.

"Can I ask you a question Evianne?" asked Will after a few minutes of looking at the beautiful spectacle.

"Fire."

"...Why do you always call Jack 'Jack' and Never 'father'?"

Evianne shrugged. "Jack Sparrow is not the type to outwardly express or receive affection, and I was raised with that mindset. I suppose it'd be a weakness among us pirates. And it's also simple force of habit."

"Do you feel that you're you like him in that respect?"

Evianne stared out at the horizon thoughtfully. "I keep my distance to maintain their safety." She turned back to him. "If someone I had feelings for were to suffer or die because of me, I'd not forgive myself. Simply because I am a pirate – and a Sparrow, no less – those around me are always at risk."

"I know where you're coming from, and I could say the same, being a Turner. But Evianne, anyone can die at any moment, and we will all have our time. I know _I_ would rather live a week full of emotion than an empty century. Learn to live life."

Evianne raised an eyebrow at him. "Where did the sudden wisdom come from?"

"Marty is a wise man," attempted Will.

"Well, I do love how you speak as if we were to see another sunset. It would seem our 'time' is now.

"So, Turner, have you lived your life?" commented Evianne subduedly.

They locked eyes.

"I think I have."

The heavens turned into a deep navy color around them, before finally surrendering to a star-laden sky of pitch. Cold quickly descended on them, a vulture descending on a dying animal; Will's soul was now choked by a icy dread in the silence.

"He'll do it," muttered Evianne suddenly.

"What?"

"Jack _will_ find your father. And-- He'll--- " Though he could not see her tears, Will could hear the tears in her voice. He moved tentatively, for fear that the boat might tip over, but he settled himself beside Evianne and she accepted his embrace. He held her close in the frigid blackness as she sobbed into his chest.

"Evianne, listen. Until it happens, we'll just pretend we're not going to... we'll pretend we'll both be going home. Evianne, we're both going home. We're both going to see our fathers. Everything is going to fix itself."

He heard her take a deep breath and felt her lift her face. "I'm sorry. I'm being idiotic. All right." A knot formed in Will's throat. Evianne was a skilled liar; she could even trick herself. He found it impossible. He hugged her more closely and settled his face on the top of her head, breathing in her hair.

"Will."

"Yes?"

"When your father returns," she began, her voice so composed you'd think they were sharing a conversation in a tavern, "You, your mother, and him, you'll all be a happy trio...

"I asked you, once, if staying on Isla Cossette was what you wanted. You didn't answer."

Will lifted his face. "On the contrary, I believe I told you I was 'settled and content'."

"That was earlier in the conversation in question, actually. We both knew you were lying to yourself, Turner. Lying to yourself desperately just as you're trying now. But that time, you hesitated. I told you, then, that... it didn't have to be that way."

"Right. I remember. And I asked you what other choice I had. Well? What other choice _do_ I have? I have to go back, continue my apprenticeship, do the odd sailing jobs, help mother--"

"Your mother will have a husband to look after her."

"What are you suggesting, that maybe she won't want me there anymore?" An edge crept into his voice.

After a pause, Evianne said, almost in a whisper, "That maybe I want you on the i_Black Pearl/i_."

Will's heart skipped a beat. Evianne closed the gap between their faces, bringing her forehead up to his in the dark. He felt her pulse quicken in his arms and simultaneously felt her face draw closer.

"I figure... since I've killed you already... no harm done...." She pressed her lips against his.


End file.
